


The Spoils of War

by sparxwrites



Category: Sunless Server - Fandom, The Yogscast
Genre: Burns, Choking, Dehumanization, Verbal Humiliation, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4304829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Nobody move, and your little alpha doesn’t get hurt.” Kirin pressed the point of his sword a fraction harder into the small of Lying’s back, forcing his spine into an uncomfortable arch to avoid being impaled. “I honestly can’t believe you all let him change you… It’s rather tragic. And, quite frankly, disgusting.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spoils of War

**Author's Note:**

> based on bits and pieces of the spoils of war au that cera and i have. it’s been too long since i wrote self-indulgent stuff, and it’s been that kind of week tbh. so. have some stress relief fic, courtesy of your local supplier of Bad Things

“Nobody move, and your little _alpha_ doesn’t get hurt.” Kirin pressed the point of his sword a fraction harder into the small of Lying’s back, forcing his spine into an uncomfortable arch to avoid being impaled. “I honestly can’t believe you all let him change you… It’s rather tragic. And, quite frankly, disgusting.” His nose wrinkled, lips peeling back in a facade of revulsion to reveal inhumanly neat, white teeth, half-extended fangs where the canines should be. “You all _stink_ of wolf, now, I could smell it from half a mile off.”

Fuzz raised their hands slowly, sword dropping tip-first into the soft ground at their feet – and, at their hand signal, the rest of the band did the same with varying levels of reluctance. Czol abandoned their weapon first, apparently confident enough in their height advantage to not worry about the possibility of a bare-handed fight, Rayse following their example a minute later and relinquishing their bow reluctantly.

Unsurprisingly, Foli was the last to surrender, prompted only by Rayse's wing gently cuffing the back of his head from their perch on Czol’s shoulder. Even when he staff lay in the mud, his hand still hovered by his waist, just waiting to grab at the dagger shoved into his belt.

“Good, good.” Kirin smiled pleasantly at them, eyes narrowed as he watched for any sudden movements, any sign they were about to attack. When none came, some of the tension eased from his shoulders, grin widening into something genuine and far more dangerous. “Nice to see you’ve all been so well-trained. I was worried I was going to have to hurt some of you – it’s always so _nice_ to avoid… _unnecessary_ casualties.” He tugged gently on the length of silver chain clenched in his fist, casually, huffing out a pleased breath at the way Lying twitched on the other end of it.

Snarling, Lying reached up to curl fingers around the end of the chain where it looped around his neck his neck, ignoring the way it burned – fingertips reddening and blistering as he pushed them between the already-raw skin of his neck and the silver chainlinks. “You leave my pack alone!” he growled, teeth bared as he snapped at thin air,

Kirin’s lips curled into a malicious smile. He twisted the hand holding the chain until the length of it looped around his hand, and _pulled_. “Quiet,” he said, voice icy-calm as the choke-chain loop slid several notches tighter around Lying’s throat, trapping his fingers and cutting off his air as he gasped against the shock of it. “It’s time you learned some manners, mutt.”

In the horrified silence that following, Lying's breathless wheezing and the soft hissing of burning skin was the only audible sound.

Fuzz's hands clenched into fists. “Stop,” they said, clipped and cold with fury. “Stop! Let him go, let him- He can’t breathe!” They grit their teeth, resisting the urge to reach up and curl a hand around the crescent moon that hung beneath their tunic, warm against their skin. “If you kill him, I _will_ kill you,” they promised, fighting to keep their voice from shaking with rage.

Lying whined, the noise high and thin and more animal than human, rattling in his throat. His lips were turning blue around the edges, fingers twitching desperately where they were trapped against his throat – he fought to get his legs under him, push himself to his feet and take some of the pressure off his throat, but the gash Kirin had opened down his hip and thigh meant his knees buckled every time he tried.

Humming, Kirin glanced down at him, and then back at Fuzz. “ _Fine_ ,” he said, dismissively, rolling his eyes. With a twitch of his hand, he slackened the chain, and Lying toppled forward into the dirt without hands to catch himself, having been held upright only by the pressure around his neck. "That's better. Happy now?"

The look on Fuzz’s face, jaw clenched tight and blank fury in their eyes, spoke volumes. Behind them, Foli’s fingers were curled around the hilt of the dagger at his belt, and Rayse's fingers were white-knuckled where they were clutching at Czol's shoulder, carefully perched. "No,” Fuzz gritted out. “No, I’m not – and I won’t be until you let Sir Lying go and _leave us alone_. What do you _want_?”

On the ground, Lying gasped into the mud, jaw clenched and throat a solid throb of pain. His fingers, where they’d been caught beneath the chain, had shiny lines of red that cracked and bled whenever he flexed his hands. His neck bore a collar of similar marks, blackened towards the centre where the pressure had been worst, dark bruising rising beneath the burns.

He tried to rise, painstakingly pulling his uninjured leg underneath him and splaying burnt fingers flat against the dusty ground until he had the leverage to push himself to hands and knees. Keeping his eyes carefully on the ground, he avoided looking up and catching the gaze of one of the four mercenaries in front of him.

It was bad enough to have been defeated in battle by a single vampire – worse still to have the rest of his pack be witness to his humiliation.

Sighing at the show of defiance, Kirin touched the tip of his sword to the small of Lying’s back and pressed down slowly and steadily, until Lying was forced to sprawl in the dirt again or have his spine severed under the pressure. “What do I want?” he mused, thoughtfully, eyeing the werewolf at his feet. “What I _want_ is for you filthy dogs to learn your _place_.”

Lying growled against the ground, teeth bared and the wolf in his chest howling to be let out – but with his pendant buried somewhere in the mud of the battleground, there was nothing he could do. “How _dare_ you talk about my pack like that,” he snarled. “You godless abominat-”

His words cut off with a sharp yelp as Kirin bore down on his sword, pressing the tip of it into soft flesh that parted easily beneath its sharpened edge. Somewhere in front of him, his pack yelled wordless alarm as he sucked in an uneven breath at the way it _burned_ , silver cauterising the wound even as it left him pinned against the ground like a butterfly to a board.

Kirin shushed them, grinning widely, tracing the tip of his tongue over his fangs as he eyed his captive audience. “”Ah, ah,” he admonished. “Mind your manners. All I want is for you and I to have a little talk.” He tugged on the chain, felt Lying twitch on the other end of it as the silver brushed against fresh skin, leaving red, bloodied marks in its wake. “And if I don’t like what I hear, well… your little alpha’s going to have _quite_ the unpleasant time of it.”


End file.
